The Flaws of Loyalty
by GermanBros24
Summary: (PIRATE) Gil is a man of loyalty. He has just struggled through a war against his best friend Francis when news comes that Antonio has been badly hurt, by the British Torn between defending his friend and fighting another, he eventually sets out to fight Arthur who has gone power drunk The world now depends in the outcome of the battle between The Lord of War and the King o the Sea
1. Chapter 1

**IMPORTANT: The time frames are screwed up. I need for the plot Gilbert to have just won his big three wars under Bismarck and have German Unification come soon (late 1800)**

**BUT THIS IS A PIRATE STORY! **

**So figure that it's set in the pirate age mostly. **

Chapter 1

The sun was setting over a war torn field. The wheat was a burned mess, still smoking on the ground. The grass was torn up and turned muddy with blood, bodies lay strewn across the vast field along with weapons and horses. Then, miles apart were the two armies, one a glorious victor, the other a shamed loser.

These two armies were the Prussians and the French, and it was the French heading home with heads hung.

In the command tent, a dusty and muddy soldier stood. He was five nine, with snowy white hair, and just as pale complexion. He was General Gilbert Bielschdmit, the representation of Prussia. He had starling red eyes that seemed to bore deep into men's souls. He was a demon on the battle field; he was a master of the blade and a sharpshooter with his rifle. He was a fantastic horseman and an even better commander. He terrified his opponents, the French had always feared him, and the great Napoleon was wary of him. He was a demon of war. His great black eagle was a sign of death and doom. War was his game, and all the land was his arena. He was the master of strategy, the king of commanders. He was the Lord of War. No one could beat him at his game; he had power, fame, and glory.

Yet for this night, he had requested to be alone and dine alone. He would not join in the joyous celebration's that came with winning wars, even if he was the reason they won.

He sat in a chair, leaned back. He was tired from fighting; he had taken Schleswig and Holstein, then defeated Austria, and now he had beaten France.

The Prussian empire was strong, and soon he would unite the German kingdoms into a solid unified country. One that his charge, and adopted brother, Ludwig would become in charge of.

This massive power he held didn't truly mean much to him. War was war, a cold and cruel game that killed good men and ended long friendships. Gil was a man of power but he never abused it. He treated every one of his soldiers like he would treat his beloved brother.

He served his king and country with a passion…even if he hated his orders. He had been a Teutonic knight; in fact he had always been a soldier of some sort. He had commanders he hated and commanders he loved, but all the same he carried out his orders. It was what a soldier did. It was what was right.

It pained him though; pained him and his own morals. He never would have fought France if he hadn't been ordered. He would have rather gotten in a fist fight with Francis than wage an all-out war. Francis was his friend. And he protected his friends. A man who betrayed his friends was lowliest kind of rat in his eyes. Yet he had, betrayed his friend, under orders for his king.

Morals and war never mixed well, it caused his heart great pain. Loyalty had many flaws is so seemed.

It didn't matter though, now it was over and he could go home. He could see Ludwig take power over the German kingdoms and he could watch with pride as the boy he raised grew into a good man. No one ever thought he was a good role model. Well this would prove everyone wrong.

He could finally go home, be home with his small family, of just his brother, who surely missed him. He had no big plans and Bismarck had promised no more big fights. Now it was just going to be boring and verbal fights in court.

Just as Gil rose to go to bed, a messenger come flying into the tent and nearly right into Gil. The man was covered in dirt and sweat; he was wide eyed and shaking. Gil was alarmed, thinking things must have gone bad back home. His mind flashed to Ludwig.

He might be an egotistical bastard who charmed every woman he met and acted like a macho idiot off the battle field, but he loved his brother and homeland with a fierce and true passion, so true no fool even dared insult him over it.

The messenger stood at attention and said quickly "Master Bielschdmit, terrible news! The English have assaulted the Armada, and won. But Sir Antonio…the pirate...the pirate man beat him past the extent needed for war! It was a personal insult...and Sir Antonio is looking very bad, very bad sir!"

Gil got a bad feeling in his stomach, a sickening feeling. He hadn't touched Francis all this war. He didn't take him like most countries did once they bested another. No, they were friends.

This man, the pirate man, must have been a country. Only a country could have destroyed the Armada and beat up Antonio. But who? Many a coastal country had a navy and went as pirates.

He nodded and waved off the messenger. His brow was set in a frown and his weary bones managed to start fidgeting. He started to pace.

Antonio was his friend, one of his best friends. He had to go and see him…in case anything happened. Even more than that, he had to find this pirate man.

He would be damned if he didn't defend his friend. Already sore over his issues with Francis, he would be hell-bent on preserving the idea that he was a loyal man to his friends.

Whoever hurt Antonio, was about to find themselves begging for hell, because Gil would be a force worse than hell.

All thoughts of going home vanished as he stalked out of his tent, tying his sword belt. He ran into one of his inferior commanders and stopped him.

"Take charge, go home. Tell Bismarck I had to go to Spain for personal reasons. Tell Ludwig I miss him and I'll be home soon." His words came out sharp and fast. It was his commanding tone.

The officer nodded, not a fool. He knew that tone, he knew better than to argue. "Yes sir, take care."

Gil was already walking off by then. He packed quickly, taking food, a blanket, and his weapons. He favored his sword over his rifle and his bow over the rifle. Guns were good in battle, but they were to slow for one man fighting many. He took all the supplies he needed and swung on his warhorse, and charged out of camp, heading at a breakneck pace for Spain. Being in France already, his travel time was cut down.

He did not have much of a plan. All he knew was Spain. He had to get to Spain and he had to kill this pirate man. He'd figure the rest out later.

Little did he know, this new quest and battle, may be his hardest yet.

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**FThoughts on this first chapter? Reviews are lovely!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Gil rode hard and he got to Spain in record time, several days. He hadn't stopped to eat or sleep. He ran alongside his horse to rest it but nearly never stopped besides to let his horse eat or drink, and that was for a short span of time. He hated to be a hard rider like this but he had to make good time.

He rode to Antonio's home and the guards let him in without question. They knew the pale albino had a right to see his friend.

They also knew if they argued Gil would snap at them.

Inside Gil strode briskly behind a servant, who led to way to Antonio's bedroom. He did not look tired and he refused the soft request to take his muddy cloak. The man opened to door and bowed to Gil, who quickly walked past him and into the softly lit room.

Worry struck Gil's heart but he did his best to look calm. He kneeled down by his friend's bedside and looked at him.

His tan body was covered by the blanket, but his chest arms and head were not, but they were covered in bandages. Some clean, other bleeding through. The usually bright and happy Spaniard was barely awake and looked greatly pained.

"Amigo…is…that…you?" he asked softly, his voice just a whisper. He didn't turn to look at Gil; he just stared at the ceiling.

"Yes...Toni it's me. I came to see you…heard you got the bad end of a fight."

Antonio sighed sadly. It hurt to see him like this. Gil bit his lip and stayed kneeling.

"I suppose…you want to know…what happened?"

"Yes." Gil said softly.

"The pirates…English, were sacking my ships. I built the Armada…and we attacked. But we…we lost. He played some dirty tricks Gil. The weather…was not in our favor either…Then, already lost. He came out of nowhere…and Gil…he isn't like he used to be…" Antonio was getting more and more upset as he told this story. The Armada had been his pride, and it had cost his country a lot to make the three hundred war ships.

But who was Antonio even talking about?

"Who isn't the same?" he asked gently

Antonio bit his lip. "We never got along…not on the sea…rising powers…same interests…but this? This for…temporary power? He must know nothing lasts forever…" Antonio was mumbling, his brow furrowed. He was sickly pale and frail looking. Gil truly feared he might not survive this.

"Toni, who are you talking about?' Gil asked again in a patience voice.

"Arthur." He said softly.

The name hit Gil like a ton of bricks. He felt sick; he had a bad taste in his mouth. As he went to ask more questions, he found Antonio had fallen asleep. He didn't wake him, his friend needed rest. He could find out from the servants.

Striding out of the room he found Antonio's head butler and stopped him. "You must know what happened. Tell me."

It wasn't a question and the butler was not about the say no to the Lord of War.

"Sir Antonio was at sea with his Armada. He ran into Drake and Arthur, the Queen's doing. She knighted them instead of arresting them. They played their pirate tricks, sailed flaming ships into the formation and broke the Spanish blockade. Then the weather went and did the rest. But instead of leaving…Mr. Arthur attacked Antonio. The battle was already lost when he did. He beat him in an inch of his life…for fun it seemed."

Gil nodded and waved the man off. He found a chair and sat down, his face set in a grim frown. Arthur had been a great friend of his. The wild Brit hated rules and had a carefree spirit. He was always at sea, docking here and there. He was a pirate, he stole things and killed sailors, and yes he got into scuffles with Antonio but that was expected.

Gil had sailed with him for fun. If Gil ever had a king who was a little absurd, he ran off with Arthur. They had done much together not as allies but personal friends. Arthur taught Gil to like rum, taught him about the ship and sea. While Gil turned around and taught the idiot how to truly sword fight.

Arthur would never admit it, but he was rather atrocious at the blade. He could best foolish sailors with a quick hit with the sharp katana he bore, but not a true experienced swordsman.

Gil always teased Arthur about his sword choices. The pirate man with the Japanese blade that he couldn't use. Art said it was a gift and always used it, so Gil ended up teaching him. They would spar for hours on the deck, Gil often winning. But eventually, Arthur got pretty good with that brutally sharp sword of it, and came close to besting Gil a time or two.

Gil truly couldn't believe this. This was taking it a little far. This beating of Antonio was not an act of piracy; it was an act of war. Beating Antonio was not just for fun. It was for his sadist pleasure and a message.

He was not going to stop there. Gil knew Arthur. He knew Arthur hated Antonio, but deep down, Arthur was a good man. As far as pirates went, he was one of the kindest. Something must have gone wrong.

Antonio had said something about power…

Gil hit the table hard and caused a few maids to shriek in sudden fear. Arthur must have snapped and gone mad. Power drunk. It happened sometimes, Antonio had gone on a power trip, this fight had ended it.

Arthurs must have just begun. That meant he would terrorize every man on the sea. Arthur loved to call himself the King. The King of the Sea.

It seemed the good king had gone bad. Gil stood up, his mind already made. Arthur was a strong man and he was growing stronger. After this incident with Spain, the other coastal countries would not dare fight Arthur. Francis was not stronger enough after their war and Gil doubted Francis would want to help.

Gil was not going home. No, he was going to sea. He had to find Arthur and stop him. This monster on the sea was not his friend, he had to go fight that monster and get his friend. His friend after all, would feel terrible about this. Well, about some of it at least.

He was the only man strong enough to fight Arthur and live. After all, Gil had to be just as powerful as Arthur. Gil had the land, the money, the stability. He was in fantastic shape. Not to mention he taught Arthur swordplay. The only difference between the two was the land and the sea. And the fact Arthur was mad and Gil wasn't.

The only problem was the fact he was Arthurs friend. It hurt bad to fight Francis under orders. He'd be fighting Arthur on his own will. He had no reason to…Antonio would understand why he didn't go fight.

Gil looked in a nearby mirror for a long moment. If he did not go, he would never be able to stand tall. He would never be able to look Ludwig in the eye. He was a soldier. He was a man of morals. Antonio was nearly killed by Arthur and Arthur had to pay. He would not get away with this act. Gil was the man to make sure of that.

Before he could change his mind he went to see Antonio. A doctor was working on him so he was awake.

"Antonio I'm going after Arthur. Give me a ship with your best sailors and soldiers."

The Spaniard looked over at him and stared. Gil stood tall and look confident. Antonio did not have the strength to argue. He beckoned to the butler and said something to him in Spanish.

The butler took Gil out of the room again and said "I will have the men and the ship in the morning."

Gil nodded "Good." He walked off again, this time to write a letter for Ludwig. Outside the window a big black eagle pecked the glass. Gil smiled faintly and let it in. His friend it seemed had followed him. He wrote to Ludwig, telling him why he wasn't coming home. He told him to be good and don't worry.

Just a short simple letter. He looked at it, and then added: I love you.

He left it to be sent out by bird and went to stare out the window at the black sea. As a solider he was good at hiding his emotions and suppressing his feelings. Right now he was suppressing that doubt chewing at his mind. Arthur was a fantastic sailor and Gil was not. He was going to play the King at his own game at his home arena. The mere thought sounded foolish.

But that did not matter. Gil did foolish things all the time. Tomorrow he would meet his crew and learn the newest sailor gossip on Arthur. Then he would begin his hunt. He would de-throne this mad king if it was the last thing he did.

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**Thanks for reading! **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When morning came, Gil rose from the corner he had been dozing in and changed his clothes into the spare he had packed which included boots, white breeches, shirt, vest and overcoat. He left his hat, not really liking to wear it much. He looked closer to a ship's captain this way.

His warhorse was to stay in the stables but his bird was dead set on following him. As Gil strolled to the docks, the bird glided over him.

To his knowledge, the ship had been readied at night, and was stocked for a long voyage. He himself did not have much, just a bag with a polishing cloth and wet stone for his blade.

On the docks stood a crew of ten men, dressed in Spanish colors. These were Antonio's men, hand-picked for their greatness with the blade and with the ship. They stood at attention when Gil came, greeting him as Captain.

His eagle came and landed on his shoulder, and without a word, Gil stared at each man. His hard red eyes burned into them. His own soldiers would talk about this first meeting of their general. They compared it to final judgment, or meeting a devil. He seemed to stare into your very soul, evaluating and judging.

The sailors shifted under his gaze in discomfort but kept quiet. Gil eventually stood with his hands behind his back and nodded "Ease up."

He was satisfied with these men, He had a good eye when it came to judging men, he saw nothing bad in these sailors. But he could be wrong, after all, he had never seen seeds of evil within Arthur.

Finally, Gil began to speak. "I, as you should know, am Prussian. I am Gilbert Bielschdmit, Chief Commander of the Prussian Army. I am a soldier and not a sailor, yet I have spent time at sea and I will know if you fools are acting up. This mission we are about to set out on is not for Prussia and it is not for Spain. It is for your commander, your friend and mine, Antonio. This is a mission for righteous revenge…and for the good of the sea and possibly the world. I am hunting Captain Arthur Kirkland, the best of the worst. He is the pirate king of England, the master of the sea."

A young sailor stepped forward "Sir?"

Gil raised his eyebrow at him, and the other sailors looked uneasy. Army rumors had led them to believe Gil was a demon of war and a cold hearted man. Not one had truly wanted to sail with the famed Lord of War. Not a single one wanted to go hunting for Captain Arthur Kirkland either, for that was a fool's quest, for those with death wishes.

The man that had stepped forward began to speak "You are looking for a ghost sir. Not a sailor alive goes out and looks for the King. Those who do die…he sits on a permanent throne. Even when he was not a lunatic, it was still madness to try and steal his title. Now, he is just gone. After he beat the Armada he just disappeared. He could be anywhere in the world, Japan, India, Canada. We cannot possibly scour the seven seas in search of him."

Gil just grinned "He is a ghost you say? Well, just call me a ghost hunter!"

This mad a few men laugh softly. Gil read them, he saw they were nervous. It did not worry him, he was an army commander. He could turn an entire army around with one rousing speech. A little humor, a little glory, and a lot of fire made the perfect speech.

So he went on "He is a king? You may call me an assassin. I will find him. I will end his tyrannous reign. You men and me, we shall save the seas and by God we will avenge Antonio. Now, I do not say this will be easy. We may fail and be forgotten. Some of you may die and your names will never be known. But so is the path of glory, wild and unpredictable." He grinned wryly

"Let me tell you of a musical piece. This battle with the Armada was not a finale, it was the grand opening of composition, the composition of war. He starts with a foe, and crushes him. He gains strength and wealth; soon he attacks again, as is the bitter chorus. After attacking again and again he grows so impossibly strong not a man alive can combat him. This is the sickening crescendo. His symphony of war includes the seven seas and the entire colonized world. He will conduct battle after battle like a sick conductor and he will slay hundreds on hundreds of sailors. His grand finale will be the British Empire that controls the entire world. He will become a real king, a true ruler, so terrible and cruel. Now, I can see by your faces not a man here seems to like this. So!" he jumped up on a crate and looked down at his boys, raising his voice.

"Let us be heroes! Let us be the foolish underdogs that set sail under terrible odds! Let us be the subjects of epics, the legends of tomorrow! Let us sail out to sea and return triumphant or not at all! We shall never hang our heads in shame, for we will be victors! And if we die so be it, for in our hearts we know we died for good, we died in glory. Heroes we shall be, and victory shall be ours, for I am the Lord of War, the master of the blade, and you men, are the top notch, the best sailor and soldiers Spain has to offer, so come and do your country proud, come with me and avenge Antonio, come to me and save the seas, be the men who save the world! Let us sail out to find a ghost and de-throne an evil king!"

The sailors liked him, a lot now. He seemed to be stark raving mad, but he was not terrifying, and he did not seem to be a rough man. Something about him commanded respect, and he would need no whip to get it. The men howled in joy and jumped up and down, fired up and ready to go. They would do this fools journey. Not a Spaniard alive liked the English pirates, and not a sailor alive liked the idea of the mad king.

Arthur had scared many men away with his often fake horror tales. Many men believed the rumors and tales, and those were enough to deter them. And while these men knew what Arthur was capable of, they no longer cared. The sea was theirs as well. And Antonio was their commander, to which they were loyal. The King would fall or they would die trying.

Gil had a solid crew behind him, and nothing was quite as dangerous as a good commander with loyal men.

"Well Captain! Your orders?" a young man asked, wearing the clothes of the first mate.

Gil looked at the tight and stuffy sailors uniforms. He didn't wear things like that for dress at army balls.

"First you lose those jackets so you can actually move. Then, get this ship out of the docks. Move it lads! We have to time to waste!" he walked up onto the ship, his ship.

The sailors all had their own jobs, and it took them no time at all to cast off from the docks. When they got to open water the first mate and the man who was to be doing the majority of captain's duties came up beside Gil "Where are we headed off to sir? Have you any clue where we might find the King?"

Gil thought for just a moment "Set sail to the Caribbean lads, I have a feeling our quarry lies there."

The man looked at him "Why do you think so? The Caribbean is far an odd place to start taking over."

Gil sat down on a crate and pulled his sword out, starting to clean it. "Arthur was once a very close personal friend of mine. I sailed with the great King. I saw his good, I had his friendship. I am afraid that man seems to be gone. But if I knew anything about Arthur, it was that the good king always had a soft spot for the Caribbean. This new monster might still hold that fondness."

The man nodded "Yes sir." He yelled the orders and went to walk off before Gil stopped him

"What is your name?"

"Javier sir."

"Do you know these men?" he asked, still intent on his sword

"I do sir, we all came off the same ship."

"Tell me their names, and after that, I will tell you what I expect."

Javier nodded and pointed "The look out, he is Cortez." It happened to be the young man who had spoken out on the socks. He had black hair, and Gil remembered bright green eyes.

"Xever is the doctor, and Rico the cook. They are brothers." He pointed to two men in the corner, one tall and the other short. Rico was the shorter of the two, he had brown hair and black eyes, Xever the same.

"Vito is the master carpenter, there." He gestured to a muscled fellow currently fixing a floorboard.

"Tomas and Emmanuel are both from the army. They were officers who came to the navy, now they are the main soldiers and they climb up the mast to tie down sails in bad weather."

Gil soaked it all in, needing to remember their names if they were attacked

Javier went on "Then here's Chris, the power monkey. He runs down to get cannon balls and powder. Also, the youngest" Gil raised his eyebrow. This man was small, and barely a man. He was a boy in his late teens.

Javier called a man over, away from the wheel "Then this is Dante, our second mate. If I die, he takes my job, the steering, sailing part."

Dante saluted. He was medium height, with long wild hair and bright intense black eyes. Gil nodded to him and he went off to steer.

"Well, Javier. We have a hell of a quest here and I expect few things. But what I expect, I want. I want loyalty. I want the men to be truthful if I question them; I want my orders followed verbatim. I will not have thieving, drunkenness, or mutiny. See that those rules are enforced. Otherwise, gamble, drink, eat, and do whatever you please; so long as the work is being taken care of."

Javier nodded "Yes sir. Oh, and the ship has a new captain, we need a new name.

Gil nodded dismissed him and went to his cabin. He had started this campaign and there was no going back.

He was going for Arthur, and he would not take defeat.

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**Thanks for reading! **


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Inside his cabin he organized the small room to fit his likings. First off was placing the maps on the walls, Antonio had kindly given him such tools.

He had spent his time on pirate ships, and this navy ship was a little different, but how much harder could it really be? One thing he never learned how to do was navigate. He found a compass, telescope and sexton on the beat up desk, to which he found no use. He'd have to give that to either Javier or Dante.

Inside the desk he found paper and ink, then an entire drawer of small rum bottles and flasks. He frowned, trying to read the Spanish word marking the drawer. He assumed it was contraband, but he did not know why. Arthur always had rum, and he thought the sailors did as well. He pulled the entire drawer out and stuck the few navigating tools in as well.

He finished going through the desk and threw his long coat on his bed with his bag. His eagle was still outside, probably hunting rats on the ship. If it ran out of rats, Gil had found it learned to fish as well.

He made a small stand for his pet to roost on at night, even though he doubted the bird would stay in the small cabin.

Grabbing the box, he walked outside. While he had cleaned, he had pondered a name for the ship…his ship.

When he walked onto the deck, the men relaxing jumped to their feet and saluted, being more soldier than sailor. Dante yelled and called the men over, while Javier steered the ship.

Gil held up the box "I take it these things are yours?"

The men actually looked down at the ground, like they were ashamed. Though Gil guessed it was more an act than true remorse.

"Well, as you have heard, I sailed with pirates. A formal navy ship is foreign to me, but I am captain. I see no harm in drinking, as long as you do not get drunk. Drunk sailors make mistakes, and I cannot afford mistakes. So, pick out your belongings." He set the box down, drawing out the compass, telescope and sexton.

Dante looked at him and came closer when Gil called him. The young sailor looked at his commander with curiosity. "You runs things quite different than we have ever seen."

Gil shrugged. He was probably breaking all sorts of rules with how he was running this operation. His ship had men now out of their stuffy uniforms, some were even shirtless. They flew no flag and they had rum, oh and their captain had no clue how to navigate a ship either.

Dante looked at the items in Gil's hand "Do you want me to give those to Javier, or teach you to use them?"

Gil handed them to Dante "Teach me later, for now give them to Javier. And if you would, take me on a tour of this vessel."

Dante nodded and ran to Javier then ran back. The box Gil had set on the deck was empty now that the sailors had reclaimed their booze.

Dante came and pointed to things, rattling off terms for parts of the ship. He finally stopped suddenly and looked at Gil "Do we have a name?"

Gil smiled a bit "Yes. I believe new do." He raised his voice so all could hear. "This ship shall be named the Rebellion, simply because we here are rebelling against the pirate king's tyrannous rule."

Dante grinned and Javier smiled his approval. Victor was busy helping Vito with repairs, and Tomas and Emmanuel kept to themselves in an open corner, not particularly interested in meeting this army officer of a captain.

Chris came running on the deck with a man Gil had not been introduced to. Chris stopped by Dante, and jerked his thumb to the tall man, talking in Spanish. Dante looked at Gil warily "Speak so our captain can understand."

Chris eyed Gil with big eyes, seeming to be frightened of the strange albino. "Victor was in the bins again."

Dante scowled and raised his hand, to seize a stick of wood near Vito. Gil coughed and glared evenly, stopping him from doing so. "Report this to me formally."

Victor stood there, glaring. He still wore the uniform, he had his sword at his side and not one tie or lapel was out of order. He stood proud, with almost an arrogance. He would be the man Gil had problems with, that was for sure.

Dante sighed "Victor is our master gunner, he has twenty years in the navy sir…"

Gil raised his eyebrow. The man did not look to be older than thirty.

Victor scowled at Gil, standing a few inches taller. Dante went on "Victor has been known to steal extra food or smokes, and rum, if any is to be had."

Lovely, he had a thief. Yes, the Rebellion might as well have been a pirate ship now.

"Dante, tonight you and Javier will meet with me in my office. We shall save the tour of the ship for the morning. Chris, if you would inform Tomas and Emmanuel I wish to speak to them?"

The two men bowed, still unsure of how to really deal with their army-captain. Gil looked squarely at Victor. He was not afraid and he was not intimidated, and he would make this man respect him.

"I suppose you'll have me whipped?" Victor asked, almost daring Gil to say yes.

"No. I will have you listening though. Tell me, why are you still dressed so?'

"I am a royal navy sailor and not a pirate thug." He spat angrily

"Fine, wear what you will." Gil said, looking him in the eye still. His red eyes never left Victor's black ones, a trick he had learned from wolves. He would establish dominance with simple body language. It took a lot to meet Gil's eyes, but to hold his gaze was much harder, and Victor did end up looking away.

"You are expected to listen. I will have obedience, and as a royal navy sailor, I do not believe that will be hard? After all, pirates are the rebellious thieves."

Victor looked pissed and growled a reply.

"Return what you took and do not cause problems. I will see you in the morning."

Gil did not like the fact he and his master gunner were not getting along. He needed to be able to depend on Victor in a fight.

Victor sauntered off and Tomas and Emmanuel came over as they had been asked.

"Why do you two seem so adverse to me?" he asked calmly, looking down at them.

Tomas spoke "We joined the navy to escape the army, and now we have you. You have no clue how to even run a ship and we know, all army men are heavy handed with whips."

Emmanuel nodded his agreement "Distrust is powerful."

Gil sighed. He really could not do much with them, he had to have time and prove himself to them through actions. It angered him a bit, but he did not show it. He would show these men he was as good captain as any.

He would get to know them. Be their friends, just like with his soldiers. Tomorrow would be a very long, trying day for him it seemed.

He had not even thought about this. Mutiny and distrust and troublemakers were not a problem on Arthur's ship…but then again, Arthur knew what the hell he was doing. This was his first battle of many to come.

And what worried him was the battle to get these men to like and trust him might just be harder than finding Arthur.

He waved off Tomas and Emmanuel and sat down against the rail. It was now late afternoon and nearly dusk, he'd have his meeting with Dante and Javier then.

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Gil was sitting in his office and thinking about his quest. Besides finding Arthur, he really had no plan. He had nothing more in mind. Whose ship? On land? He hated to fight on the sand.

Most important, what did he do with Arthur? The man hated when he was captured, he always escaped as well. Could he really beat him into submission, then drop him off like cargo, and have his friend be hanged?

Or, would he kill Arthur, right there on his ship. He knew Arthur; he would rather fall in battle than be hung. But Gil did not want to kill Arthur…that would be horrible. He'd have to tell his brothers, and Alfred then, he couldn't do that.

Before he could go into a rage over these thoughts, Javier and Dante entered. "Sir?" they said in a chorus.

Gil beckoned them to sit and close the door. He had a lamp lit and he was leaned back in his chair, his eagle on his forearm.

"I need a few things taken care of. First, I need you to tell the men tomorrow I will speak to them one on one. Warn them that they are not in trouble. Then, if you would show me around the ship? Later when there is time, Dante can you teach me navigation?"

The two men nodded

"You two will also come see me, I must know my men. But for now, tell me about this trip. How long will it take?"

Javier stood and pointed to a map on the wall. "We are about here, miles off the Spanish coast, with hundreds to go. This trip is nearly all the way to America. It will take, in perfect conditions, two and a half months. We have enough supplies for four months, if Victor stays out of it." He grumbled

Gil nodded "Now, another thing. If there are signs of mutiny and unrest that I do not hear or see, alert me. And remember I am not a sailor and I am not an experienced captain. I do not care if they insult me or doubt me, because in all honesty I doubt myself." He sighed a bit and looked at the two men "I will find a way to win them; I do not need you to bully them even if that is how sailors do it. No more whipping or beating or hanging from the mast."

Dante looked down and Javier nodded.

Gil had no more to say, so he dismissed them and went to bed.

Come morning, he rose at dawn like he always did, and walked out onto the deck. He strode all the way to the bow of the ship, standing and looking out to the sea, the sun just starting to rise.

His bird sat on his shoulder, and his sword at his side. This was a familiar picture. He had watched a sea sunrise many times, and they never ceased to amaze him. The only thing missing from the picture, was a handsome Brit, with intelligent green eyes and a soft smile, dressed with a captains jacket and hat, with blonde hair just a little long. Arthur was missing, Gil found himself smiling sadly, missing his pirate, missing the wild Brit who loved the sunrise.

His crew woke and worked, but none came to bother their captain. Gil stood there for a while before he got himself together, composed his commanders attitude. Before he turned, he wiped his hand over his cheek, flicking a small bead of moisture away.

Dante stood by his cabin door, and Gil made his way over, opening the door and closing it behind them. He sat down on his desk and looked at his man, one of the few he really believed in.

"I told you I wanted to talk to you all and get to know you, I do the same with all my soldiers and it works out well. So Dante, tell me a bit about you?"

Dante looked up with his blazing eyes and started to talk "Well I've been in the navy since I was ten, my father was a sailor. I fought many fights against the British. I've seen the America's and guarded gold ships. I was put in the Armada on my last return, one of the few who lived."

Gil was listening intently, which always made him easier to speak with. Dante went on about his home and his family and his love of the sea. Gil liked him; the young sailor was a good man. After a while Dante shut up and left and Javier came.

Javier was a bit more wary to speak with Gil but he loosened up and spoke. Javier had always been on the sea and had been used to strict captains. He was a hard worker and had risen fast in the ranks to become the first mate. Dante was more open and relaxed than Javier, but Gil did not mind. He spoke a little more this time, telling about himself, and he found Javier had a younger brother as well.

"I'll try my hardest to see you back to him." Gil said

Javier smiled a bit "And I will try equally as hard for you." He rose and left.

Tomas came in sulking and sat down, refusing to speak. Gil did his best to be patient and ended up speaking the entire time. He spoke of home, his brother and his military career. He watched Tomas expressions as he talked. Gil spent most his time recounting a battle of great fame.

Tomas actually responded to that "Why not take everything? You are no coward and no fool, why not sack the villages? That's what we did; we still do it sometimes in the navy."

Gil smiled "Because they needed it more than we and I did not want to be a monster. A fine line separates a general from a monster."

Tomas seemed to hate him less when he left. Vito came in, and he was just a happy man. Vito was huge and muscled and looked terrifying but he was humorous and easy going. He just talked and talked happy to fill the room with his voice. He even asked how Gil was today.

After Vito was Emmanuel, who seemed to have already talked with Tomas. He was still quiet but he offered a little information.

Chris followed, and Gil was greatly reminded of his little brother. The young teen was shy and quiet, but was totally spellbound when Gil started talking. Gil would not have problems with the young lad, he saw that already.

Xever and Rico were both pretty easy going. Xever liked Gil, and wanted to know all sorts of stories about war. He had wanted to be an army doc, not a navy one. He even sheepishly told Gil he got seasick a lot.

Rico was quieter than Xever but he seemed to also like Gil. He even cracked a few army jokes at Gil. Cortez was another who was wary of Gil but warmed up fast. Gil complimented him for speaking up on the docks, and Cortez laughed a bit, saying he thought Gil was going to kill him then and there.

Victor was Gil's last man to see, and the man strode in and sat down. He did not speak, but to say "I do not want to hear anything from you. You are not a navy man, you do not understand our ways, I have zero faith in you, and I do not believe you will do anything besides get us all killed."

Seeing talking to Victor further would really just be a waste of time, he dismissed him and walked out.

Javier gave Gil a tour of the ship while Dante was controlling it. Javier was just bringing him up to the deck again when Cortez yelled "PIRATE SHIP OFF THE PORT SIDE!"

Javier ran to the left side and Gil followed. Chris bolted down the steps followed by Emmanuel and Tomas to get cannonballs. Victor howled loud for everyone to hear, getting Cortez, Xever, and Rico to cannons.

Javier handed his spyglass to Gil, and he looked out at the fast approaching ship. "Dutch." He said, giving it to Javier. "I've dealt with this before…"

He turned and yelled "DRAW WEAPONS AND PREPARE TO BOARD, DANTE, SWING UP AROUND, MOVE IT, I WANT TO SEE YOU RUNNING!"

His booming command voice sent them all scurrying. He had not realized he totally went against Victor, but right now he had more to worry about. Dante turned them to face the Dutch ship, and the men were all armed with their swords. Gil barked at Xever to fire a single cannon, the loud boom echoed and the ten pound ball went flying at the close Dutch ship.

"WHY EVEN FIRE AT HIM THIS CLOSE?!" Victor howled in rage.

The ball hit the deck and took the leg off an unsuspecting sailor. "Because I wanted to Victor." Gil answered.

The Rebellion narrowly missed being head on rammed by the Dutch ship. They whacked broadside, and instead of being thrown back, Gil gripped the wall and threw himself onto the other ship.

His men followed over chaos begun. Gil found who he expected: Lars. The tall blonde came swinging at Gil. "You fight for the Spanish now?"

Gil countered his hits and struck back "No, I am hunting with them."

Lars rolled his eyes and tried to drive Gil over the rail. "Hunting what?"

Gil swung and cut his arm. "Arthur."

Lars howled in pain as his arm muscled cut and switched to fight with her other arm. "You won't ever find him. I will, and I will take his new kingdom, after I thank him about killing Spain."

Gil shook his head, intent on setting his fellow country on a home course. He would not kill him, just wound bad.

Before he could do this, he heard Victor yell and go down on the deck ten feet away. In his distraction, Lars got a good hit on Gil. Gil howled but jumped back, taking on the two Dutch sailors who were trying to kill Victor.

Javier threw himself into the fight, killing the one and Gil got the other. Dante was taking on Lars, with Emmanuel as backup.

The Dutch were now mostly dead and Gil could feel the hot blood freely falling down his side. His vision blacked and he swayed. Vito came over and looked at him worriedly, but before he could speak Gil growled "Get Victor on our ship."

He yelled loud "BACK OFF, BOARD OUR SHIP, MOVE IT, NOW!"

Dante jumped back from Lars and got back on the ship, Emmanuel on his heels. He watched Lars, glancing to make sure all his men left the Dutch ship. Only once they all were on did he jump back over to his ship.

Tomas and Emmanuel and Javier stood with sword waiting if Lars was stupid enough to try attacking. Dante got them sailing away from Lars, and back on course.

Gil was counting to make sure everyone was back and alive, though he never finished counting before he blacked out.

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
Gil was not aware of what was going on for a while. Everything was in a blur. He saw a face here and there but then it just went away. He blacked out here and there, and eventually just stayed blacked out.  
He woke in the morning, with the doctor Xever sitting next to him, and Javier not too far away.  
Javier looked down at him "That was a nasty wound amigo."  
Xever was grumbling about the stupidity of people and feeling the need to be a hero. Gil just smiled a bit and groaned softly. "Well, I've had worse…"  
Victor was sitting up in a bed across from him. They were below deck, Gil figured. Down where the sailors all slept. Javier left to tell the rest their captain lived, and Xever stood "I will get you food."  
Victor came over and Gil worried that the man might strike him down in his time of weakness. But instead Victor kneeled down and bowed his head.  
"Sorry…Captain. I've caused you trouble and all the same you do this for me. So…thank you. My wife…I'm sure thanks you as well."  
So this cold man had a wife. A love, someone to return home to. Gil would have saved him even if he was nobody to anyone, because that just what he did. Victor was one of his men. But he felt even better to know he had saved Victor, and saved his wife from being a widow.  
Gil smiled at him "Forgiven. Now, when you are well, get up on deck and do your job. You are master gunner, I shall let you do your job…as you see fit." He only felt a little bad about taking control when the Dutch attack. Just a little bit.  
Victor nodded and stood "I shall go now."  
Gil lay in bed for a while before Xever came back with soup. "Rico made it fresh."  
It was cold, like everything. But still good, and he had eaten cold soup before. Being a empire at its height, he healed remarkably fast and by nightfall he was walking around.  
He just went up top, to look out at the sky. His eagle came and landed on his arm, nibbling his ear. Dante was at the wheel, steering.  
Emmanuel and Tomas came over to him, talking just briefly, but thanking him and they too apologized.  
Gil grinned out at the dark sea. He had proved himself to his crew, his first great battle was won. Now all that was left, was getting to the Caribbean.  
In a passing month, Gil because quite the sailor. He was taught how to navigate by stars and using different tools. His crew respected him and trusteed him even if he was not a true sailor.  
They ran into trouble here and there, and easily they dealt with it. In no time at all, they found the warm waters of the Caribbean Sea.  
They invaded the King's home and there were closer than ever to finding him.  
They sailed slow, milling about the waters. His eagle went on long trips, Gil had it searching for Arthur.  
On the coast line he saw wrecked towns. Ones pillaged and burned, proof that Arthur really was there. And really was crazy.  
Early one morning, Cortez shouted "Pirate ship dead ahead!"  
Gil's eagle was soaring in the sky and came flying down and landed on his arm, chattering and cawing in agitation.  
Gil's heart started to race. What now? His plans ended here. He had to fight Arthur…fight him and do what? He wanted to kill him right?  
They were running up fast on the ship, Victor yelling orders at men, and before Gil really knew it, they were launching cannon balls at Captain Arthur Kirkland.  
He found himself drawing his sword and then when the two ships collided, he found himself jumping onto the familiar ship, and looking for that familiar man.  
Arthur's crew was more or less the same, just a few new faces to replace the old missing ones. The ones who knew Gil, looked surprised and angry, though some looked thankful. They could have been forced to stay, but Gil doubted it. They must have thought Gil could end Arthur's insanity.  
Arthur himself sauntered over. He was as Gil remembered; strong, proud, handsome. Lion-like in many ways. He held himself with high regard, like a King. But his eyes were different. Hauntingly so.  
The gleam of adventure had been stolen and replaced with an exact replica…but that replica wasn't good enough to fool Gil. His smile, was the same. So close, but so off.  
Arthur was trying to lull Gil into seeing things different. Gil felt it in his heart. The eagle cawed above them, instead of landing on Art's shoulder and biting his ear, like it often did. Even the simply bird knew Arthur was different.  
"Have you lost all your manners Gil?" Arthur asked, breaking the silence.  
Gil held his sword out defensively "What manners? You do not deserve them."  
Arthur looked hurt. "My old friend what is this? You left me to sail alone and now you came and hunted me down, attacking nonetheless."  
Before he lost his resolve Gil threw himself in an attack. Arthurs katana whipped out so fast Gil narrowly missed being cleaved in two.  
"You attacked Antonio. You wanted to kill him." Gil snarled, circling.  
Both crews were just watching, and not fighting. The Lord of War and the King o the Sea were meeting in battle. They had different swords and different styles. They had a past, they had memories. They were talking, but by the end only the words said by the blades would matter. The air was heavy, it was intense. Everything had been drawn to a standstill, besides for the two men, circling, and glaring.  
The sea was calm, the sky clear blue. It was a beautiful day, one that if Gil and Arthur had been friends, Arthur might have coaxed Gil into swimming.  
But now instead, one was about to die at the others hand. Gil lunged, and his sword met Arthur's in the air with a loud bang.  
"I was always the better sword man." Gil snarled, his rage seeping out. His eyes were cold and hard, his face set it a murderous glare.  
Arthurs green eyes were cold, and the old gleam was replaced by a hard, murderous, blood lusting glint. "And I the better magician."  
Gil had forgotten so many things with this battle. But now he remembered everything. Every single reason why he was always glad to be Arthur's friend not foe. Gil hated magic and he couldn't swim well at all. He hated the ocean really, he could swim rivers, and even in lakes, but with no shore or boat to get on…he didn't do so great. Arthur swam much better, and Arthur had to jump in a few times to get Gil. Arthurs knowledge of Gil's weak spots would be crippling.  
Gil swept his blade low and made Arthur jump back. "You might be the King of the Sea, but I, I am the Lord of War. I am the master of bloodshed and the new king. Arthur this madness has to stop. You are mad, power drunk. I know you, and this isn't you. Please, my friend, let me help you."  
Arthur swung so fast Gil couldn't fully block it, and he got a scrap across the chest.  
He smiled, a sweet and sick smile. "Oh Gil, you might be the Lord of War, but this is the sea. You, are fresh out of land. The sea is my arena. We play by my rules. That is why I'm the King."  
He raised his hand, magic glowing on his fingertips. Gil cringed back, but Arthur didn't attack him. He killed Chris, Tomas and Rico, with a flick of his hand. Another flick, and he threw them into the sea, carelessly.  
It was a low blow. Arthur knew that. Nothing hurt Gil worse than losing men. Not even magic.  
Gil bellowed in rage and smashed into Arthur, pulling out all the stops. He fought so hard and fast Arthur looked scared for a moment. The Lord of War had really become a demon. Arthur reeled back a little too heavy, and his foot crashed through the deck. Gil's sword was at his throat in a second.  
"It's over, Arthur," he said softly  
Arthur looked up at him. They had sparred so many times, and so often it ended like his. Art didn't get along with floorboards. He stepped to heavy, that as one thing that made Gil better at fighting. He floated.  
"Gil, would you hurt me? Your best friend, your old lover?" he asked, so softly, honestly, like he really wasn't crazy. "Gil, don't you trust me? You can always trust a pirate."  
His murderous looked faded, Arthur was…he came to his senses right? He shook his head and growled "I trust you to run me though."  
Arthur smirked and in a flash, he lurched, using magic, and stabbed Gil with that sharp edge. He shoved Gil on the ground, then kneeled on his chest.  
Gil wheezed "You need help…this isn't you Arthur…"  
He looked enraged "I DO NOT NEED YOUR BLOODY HELP, THE SEA IS MINE AND THAT HOW IT WILL BE FOREVER! AND THOSE WHO DARE CHALLENGE ME WILL FALL, STARTING WITH YOU!"  
He kicked Gil's blade away and grabbed Gil by the throat, staring into his eyes "I thought you cherished loyalty. But this was the ultimate betrayal. So I will repay it."  
Gil was scared, really scared. Arthur did something, and he suddenly felt on fire. Felt like he was being burned alive. He was reliving being burned at the stake, it was all too much, panic was rising in his chest, he squirmed and screamed.  
"Better put you out…" Arthur smirked, and hurled Gil overboard, into the sea.

**Thoughts? please review!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

He hit the water with a splash and sunk. The impact was painful, the magic causing a terrible panic attack. The sensation of burning didn't go away. He tried to swim but failed. His blood floated in the water and surrounded him. Gil was weak.

_This must be how I die_… he thought.

Water was filling his lungs. He was choking, it was burning worse than the magic. He started to stop fighting. Maybe a shark would kill him before he drowned. It would hurt less.

He was unaware of the strong grip now on him. Was it the Kraken? He'd take that death over drowning.

He was rather surprised to sudden feel wind, and then he realized he could actually inhale. He started to cough, expelling water from his lungs. Javier was next to him, swimming and holding him up.

Dante and the rest were back on their own ship, Arthur's sailing off quickly.

A rope was tossed over the side of the ship to the water, and Javier managed to somehow get him and Gil up the steep side and onto the solid deck.

Xever kneeled down by Gil and started working on his cut, while Gil was still in a daze.

He wasn't dead…but someone was…three were. Chris, he was gone…Rico too. And Tomas…

In his pained and half dead state the only thing his mind was computing was rage. Pure true deep set rage. Worse than when he found out Arthur had attacked Antonio. Much worse rage. No man dared kill Gil's soldiers for no reason.

Arthur knew damn well how bad that would hurt Gil. He knew damn well how much Gil hated magic and burning. He knew even better than Gil couldn't swim. Three weaknesses he knew, that he exploited.

Arthur was going to pay. Not just to Toni, but now for his three dead men.

Gil wouldn't play nice now. He knew Arthur's weak spots, and he was going to use them.

Arthur had probably thought Gil was too high and mighty to do so. Arthur was banking on Gil being a good little moral Prussian. Arthur must have thought Gil would play fair.

Gil had an answer for that.

All is fair in love and war.

He sat up, pushing Xever back. He stood, shaky.

"We found the King. He will not escape. Now you fools, get this useless heap of wood moving. Go after Arthur. Chase. We are sea dogs. War dogs. What do dogs do better than chase?"

He looked at his men. Emmanuel was somber with the sudden death of his best friend. They had done a lot together, he couldn't grasp the fact he was gone.

Xever was quiet, looking down. His brother was gone. Just like that, gone forever.

They all looked remotely sad about the death of their youngest mate. Chris was a good little deckhand. Quiet, but diligent. Gil was reminded of Ludwig.

"We have three men to avenge here. Three men taken before their time, for no reason. This evil tyrant has killed his last man. Sail boys! We ride there wild waves to the final battle, the battle in which some will die. Boys we're going to kill a King. Murder his crew, his helpers. Cut off the Kraken's legs, and he can do no damage. I will deal with him myself. If I die, go home. Tell what has happened. Don't pull any heroics."

His tone was calm and even but stirred a fire in them. They ran about, turning the ship about and going full pace right at Arthur.

Captain Kirkland was busy being cocky. He hadn't sped off with magic, in fact he was kicked back and drinking rum, not a worry in the world. He knew these seas better than any man alive, Gil was probably dead by now. He had no worries. He had no guilt either.

His madness has cloaked his conscious. He couldn't feel bad about killing his best friend, not at the moment at least.

Gil was done, his mind set. He'd kill Arthur if he had to. He would do it, he could imagine the feeling of his sword plunging through the Brit's chest. It satisfied him in strange ways.

As they went after the pirate ship, he stared at the sea. He realized something. This quest and desire to kill Arthur might be his own decent into madness. If he killed Arthur, it left the British Empire for the taking. How easy it could be to sweep up that land and power.

But no…he couldn't. He just wanted to go home. Power and control wasn't his style.

But neither was murder.

It didn't take long before the two ships got close enough for the crews to yell at each other. Arthur was still lazing on the deck without a care in the world. He hadn't seen his soaked but very alive enemy.

They ships collided, throwing everyone off balance. Gil's sailors ran and jumped onto the pirates ship, assaulting them in battle. Gil's long sword flashed at his side. His eagle cawed loud, a battle cry.

Arthur looked lazily at Gil "Do I see a ghost before me? What do you want?"

Gil growled "You see a very pissed off man before you. And all I want is to dethrone a king."

Arthur stood and drew his sword "Well mate, what do you say? Shall we dance?"

This fight was different. More…deadly. Heavier. Personal.

Two great titans clashed again. Swords sparking and clanging. Gil went for Arthur's bad knee, making his step heavy on floorboards. He danced around, fast, striking hard. Arthur barely kept up. Gil always held the upper hand in combat.

A rope swung loose and Gil grabbed it, swinging around too fast for Arthur to do anything. Gil got behind Arthur, and his solid boot smashed into Arthur's spine, with all his weight and momentum behind it.

The pirate cried out and fell on the deck. His back seized up, in bad pain. Gil knew it hurt. Arthur had fallen once, broken his back. Being a country kept him alive. Gil stalked over to him, kicking him in the side and flipping him onto his back.

"I didn't know you liked red rum." Gil said , growling.

Arthurs face was clear in pain. He choked out "Red rum?"

Gil punched him in the face "Murder! You killed three men! For what?" he roared, socking Arthur again.

Arthur's sword was gone from his hands and he was too hurt to use magic. Gil's eyes were burning dark and in hatred. He beat down on his friend, with kicks and punches. He grabbed Arthur by the shoulders and smashed his head into the deck trying to beat sense into him.

Then he rose, and pulled his sword.

Arthur looked at him, not even scared for his life. This wasn't the same man Gil new. He had been replaced by this exact opposite.

Gil scowled "You were my best friend. I trusted you with everything. My family, my life. You taught me so much about the sea…let me see so much of you, to turn around and do this?"

Arthur looked away

"You showed me the America's…you showed me Alfred. Shame, the young lad will grow up without you. You fool…you threw so much away, just for power."

"Power controls the world." He growled. He was set in this madness.

"But is power worth this loss?"

Arthur was silent.

"You will take me prisoner, have me hung?" he asked after a moment

Gil sighed. It was another weakness of Arthurs he knew. Arthur hated jail, he thrived on the sea breeze and the freedom.

But if he was hung he'd die and come back, just never a pirate. The same fate awaited him if Gil killed him. But at least he died a valiant death then.

Gil swung hard, the flat of his blade hitting Arthur in the head, hoping to literally knock some sense into him.

Arthur was still paralyzed in pain, and his madness had too strong a hold. He would never give up power. It was the only thing that mattered to him now. Gil meant nothing. Alfred, nothing.

Gil saw he was too far gone and pointed his sword right at Arthur's heart.

Arthur grew suddenly bitter, facing his death. "A swine of a man, a lair with no honor! A betrayer!" he spat.

Gil just shook his head "Long live the king."[1]

His arm jerked and he impaled Arthur through the heart. He was dead in just seconds.

Arthur's blood soaked the deck, and Gil bowed his head. Then he dropped to his knees, and prayed.

He knelt there a long while, praying hard for his best friends soul. They would meet again, but they might never be the same.

This was the ultimate betrayal. Not just the death, something far worse. Arthur's days as King were done. He'd come back as captive to society. A prisoner at home. The sea would never be his, he would never feel that freedom pirating gave. He'd never watch sunrise from the middle of the Atlantic.

He would never call the Caribbean his again.

That, Gil knew, was a fate far worse than death.

He had never wanted to turn on a friend again in war. And now he had turned on Arthur. Truly betrayed him- and not under any orders. That's what hurt the worse.

When he finally rose, his ship was waiting, the men quietly on it.

He jumped over. "Burn the ship…a funeral pyre."

In moment, that familiar ship was ablaze. Arthur would go down with his ship, Gil knew he'd like that. He'd go down with his men too… The good King, the real Arthur would have liked that.

The real Arthur, the good King, would live forever. In the memories of those he helped…and in Gil especially. He'd tell the real story of Captain Arthur Kirkland…his memory would not be tainted by this incident. No, Arthur would be remembered right. In great wild tales of grandeur and grit. No detail spared. His name would strike fear, but also much stronger, strike respect. Because the King, Arthur, was a good man. The best as far as pirates go, even better than most men.

The real Arthur would have understood this mess. Gil just wished he could have saved him. But in a sense he sort of did. He stopped this madness, and saved his name. When he came back…He would have to understand.

Even now Gil could hear in his memory Arthur's calm deep voice comforting him. He could imagine that sturdy hand on his shoulder, the manly protective hug. Their silent secrets.

He even smelled the French perfume and rum, the comforting smell of his friend.

He watched as the ship sink and when all light from the fiery wreckage was gone he softly said

"Long live the King o the Sea."

* * *

[1] Important: Yes, from Lion King. But think how perfect of a line. How sad, and true. Gil wants Arthur to live as king-a good king. So this bad king must die. Gil is saying 'long live the memory of you' basically.

**Thoughts on the story? **

**short only because making it longer would make it boring **

**so please review !**


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